The Golden Hour
by playingwithfire180
Summary: There are sixty minutes in an hour, which means there are sixty different ways an hour can change your life. Phillip Gallagher, the eldest son of the Chatsworth Estate family, is about to learn all this the hard way. Time is our only fate, never stopping.


The table was clustered up with dirty plates and cutlery that were lying haphazardly around on the surface. The cloth was hanging half off the wood, a chair or two upturned. The toast was burning in the toaster, the bottom of the sink unrecognizable due to the piles of cups, and scraps of food floated around on the soapy top. Water ran down the kitchen to the leg of the table chair from the washing machine. A large duffel bag was propped up by the fridge on the countertop, unzipped and full to the brim with clothes. It was deserted.

I walked across the kitchen to the bag and added yet another t-shirt to the ever increasing load. I shoved it in, enabling me to zip it up. Swinging it onto my back, I looked around the house and inwardly sighed – this had been my home for as long as I could remember, but I couldn't live here anymore; it held far too many bad memories for me. It had only been a few weeks since Mandy's funeral, and the wounds were still fresh. She had lived with us for so many months; she had been a part of this family just as much as she had been a Maguire. She had been my best friend. Fiona and Lip had both left; it was about time I did the same – there was nothing left for me now, not really. I walked over to the note board above the stereo and scribbled a note on the yellow sticky, pressed it down with my thumb and turned on my heel to walk out the door.

_Click_.

The door shut behind me. I pressed my lips together into a thin line. I stood there silently for a moment; my back to the door. I had grown up here, but month by month I could see our original close knit family crumble to pieces; Debbie had been so innocent, Liam had so much potential while Stella didn't even exist. Frank was settled and happy as Monica was nowhere to be found, Carl was just as dumb as he looked, Fiona expertly juggled keeping us together and enjoying herself with Veronica. Lip played the big brother and I had someone to rely on. Each of us, in our own way, made this family work.

What did we have now?

Not much, really.

I dropped the duffel bag and made my way over to the Maguire household. I didn't care who I woke up; I slammed my fist repeatedly against the door, hoping they would open up and let me in. I could hear Paddy's low growl vibrate through the steel door. I stood back and waited, shuffling my feet anxiously against the ground. The grate in the door slid to one side, Paddy's large eyes stared me down. I stood silent as he unlocked the door and stood aside to let me in. No words passed between us, I just shuffled past him. Looking around for Katie, I was only met with an empty kitchen and a sleep-deprived Irish man in a white fluffy bathrobe. I chanced a glance at him, and I could see the emotional defeat in his eyes as he pointed at the archway that leads into the lounge.

I nodded at him and made my way into the lounge. There she was, sat wide awake upon the black leather of the sofa. I smiled sheepishly at her as I sat down beside her. She giggled lightly and reached out towards me, her little fingers flexing. "Hello Katie," I picked her up and sat her on my lap, kissing her head of golden curls. I looked up to find Paddy stood at the window. "You okay?" I asked the toddler and she nodded shyly. You'd think after Danny, after Kash, after Mandy I'd stopped caring so much for people. I'd like to say that was true, but the thing is Katie is the only thing left that connects me to my past – to those golden days, the carefree ones, the ones when the Gallagher clan really were a unit, and not just individual people tied together by a name. A lapse in logical thinking for a moment made my vocals create a sentence before I had time to consider the consequences of the words I was forming.

"Has anyone contacted Lip yet?"

"No,"

"He should know,"

"That good for nothing piece of shit screwed our Mandy over and didn't even have the balls to turn up at her funeral," Although I understood where Paddy was coming from, he was still my brother. He was still Katie's Dad. Mandy had moved on since he left for University, and he had become her Dad by blood only – but he had a right to know, except I hadn't got around to telling him yet, because I knew no one else would. Out of all of us, I missed him the most. We'd been as thick as glue until the distance between Manchester and Nottingham got in the way of us. He should be almost finished with his History degree by now; but I wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to return home. I know I didn't.

I settled Katie back down on the sofa next to me. Paddy eyed me cautiously as I drew out my mobile. I thumbed the numbers in quickly; already I felt increasingly apprehensive. I hadn't spoken to him in just under two years now, and to be suddenly phoning him to drop a bombshell like this, an ultimatum, wasn't quite how I planned things. Return home to an otherwise parentless kid, or run off elsewhere with some girl, a degree and no care in the world. I know which one I'd rather choose, but somehow, I always ended up doing the right thing – somehow. I placed the mobile to my ear as it rang. I heard his muffled voice in the background.

"Lip, its Ian,"

_Click_.

He'd hung up.


End file.
